


lionheart

by Euphoriette



Category: Metal Fight Beyblade | Beyblade: Metal Fusion
Genre: All pairings are platonic, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Introspection, Past Character Death, Personal Growth, Post-Canon Fix-It, Self-Acceptance, Sleep Deprivation, Sort Of, i mean like a LOT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:01:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22356823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Euphoriette/pseuds/Euphoriette
Summary: It's been months after Kyoya Tategami played a part in saving the world and months since Ryuuga died. But, when Kyoya starts getting dreams showing that Ryuuga's still out there, very much alive, he decides to take matters into his own hands, find the other blader, and preferably, beat him up a little.What hedidn'tsign up for, was finding out a lot more about himself along the way.
Relationships: Ootori Tsubasa/Tategami Kyouya, Ryuuga/Tategami Kyouya, Tategami Kyouya/Kishatu Ryuto
Comments: 6
Kudos: 31





	lionheart

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i'm posting beyblade fanfiction in 2020, why do you ask

Kyoya doesn’t really know why _he’s_ the one the dreams come to.

Maybe it’s because he was once part of the Dark Nebula, like _him_. Maybe it's because of their former bond as fellow legendary bladers of the four seasons. Maybe it’s both of those reasons.

(Maybe it’s because it’s still inside him. Dark, thrumming, ice-cold and hellfire-hot. Making the blood pound heavy and loud in his ears, until nothing else can be heard)

He also doesn’t know when the dreams first started appearing. The dreams never really _started_ , anyway, not really. More like they grew into existence, like a parasite he’s just become aware of.

But Kyoya does know that before the dreams, sleep (while he seldom made time for it) was arguably one of his favorite activites. It was just nice, dissolving into your headspace, floating and at peace, where nothing can hurt or harm you. Sleeping is just _nice_ in general. When Kyoya slept, it was with no holds barred, Olympic-level.

After the dreams, sleeping just leaves him exhausted.

Whatever. Bottom line is: it’s really a nuisance, and so damn strange too! Kyoya never has dreams, usually sleeps like the dead. If he does have dreams, he sure as hell doesn’t remember them. 

But now he does,and it’s always the same one.

(He’s back in the Dark Nebula base, back in his battered old army-green jacket that smells like soil and Axe deodorant. Rock Leone is heavy in his hand, and something flickers at the edge of his vision.

He catches a glimpse of a white jacket, molten-gold eyes, and a very punchable smirk, but a familiar smirk nonetheless. The figure disappears around a corner and Kyoya is hot on his heels. 

He chases after him, running and running and running, and he’s always there. Right around the corner, still smiling as infuriatingly as always, but every time Kyoya comes close to him, he turns and he’s gone. 

It happens a couple more times, the chasing, the disappearing, until Kyoya reaches somewhere, different from the seemingly-endless corridors, and slows his pace.

He’s in a room, a bleak, dark-gray room and there’s nothing in it besides a pod-looking thing with the Dark Nebula logo and a bunch of wires.

Oh, and Ryuga. Who’s supposed to be dead.

All is silent for some time, and the other boy looks at Kyoya like he’s trying to will him to burn with nothing but his gaze. Ryuga appraises him for a moment, then scoffs.

“Come find me”, he says, eyes blazing, teeth bared. “If you dare, Tategami.”

He says it like a challenge, which most things always seem to be with him. Ryuga smiles, slow, condescending, then turns.

Kyoya reaches for him. His vision flickers.

Everything goes dark.

He wakes up.)  
___

He looks terrible.

Kyoya knows it, sees it in the mirror when he goes to scrub his teeth free of grime. His undereyes are so dark, it looks like he got socked in both eyeballs.

He also knows that the others know that something’s up, judging by the disgustingly concerned looks he gets whenever he visits the B-Pit to get his Leone fixed up. They’re all usually congregated there in a pathetic, happy group, eating whatever latest creation Madoka’s baked or just hanging out for the heck of it. Whenever he enters, he gets a chorus of greetings directed at him (which he ignores), but now, mixed with those, are questions like “hey, you doing okay” or “you alright, bro” (which he also ignores, but gets annoyed by, nonetheless).

He gets that they’re trying to be subtle about it. They fail spectacularly, though, especially Gingka, who is like a loud, tacky-inspirational-quote dispenser, not subtle in the least, and Benkei, who is just so annoyingly thoughtful and caring that it’s hard to ignore.

Then, the _advice_ starts.

Madoka suggests putting 3-4 drops of lavender oil (something which she has a worrying amount of) on his pillow. Benkei tries to casually slip the fact that ‘drinking warm milk before sleeping can help’ into a conversation. Yuu has the fucking audacity to gift him a honest-to-god _lion plushie_ to hold at night (which he most definitely does not keep, and name Duke Snuggles, definitely not).

It reaches a breaking point when Gingka offers him a thrice-cursed _cuddle session_ (with popcorn and a cheesy movie as added embarrassments), confidently declaring “Lets cuddle away the troubles, Kyoya!”

At that exact moment, Kyoya almost had a conniption. The dreams were one thing. He could deal with those. But this? Advice, worrying, affection? What the _fuck_? How does one deal with this stupid emotional drivel?

So, the very next morning, Kyoya packs his bag, leaves a note stuck on Madoka’s desk saying:

- _I’m fucking out, losers. Don’t miss me too much._ -

heads out to the station, and catches the first train out of Metal Bey City, with no plan in his head but to get the hell out of dodge, (namely, away from gross cuddle sessions, because if there’s one thing Kyoya’s not willing to admit, is that he’s touch-starved and still in denial of it), and to get rid of stupid problematic dreams.

Because accepting all that stupid helpful bullshit was never an option to begin with, and he’d rather slaughter himself with a war-hammer than get all caught up in that mushy crap.  
___

Whilst in the train, Kyoya does come up with a rudimentary plan though. He quite likes it, and it goes like this:

Step 1: Make it to the Dark Nebula base (without bodily injury, because self-preservation and Kyoya don’t go together).

Step 2: Wing it.

Step 3: Get back to Metal Bey City and get fucking fried as hell because Lord knows he needs it.

There. Short and sweet. _Man_ , is he a genius.

Kyoya decides to settle in and try for a nap. He has his whole seat to himself (he’s been giving nasty looks to anyone who dares to try and sit beside him) and the train ride’s going to take a very long while. Might as well give it shot.

(Kyoya knows that he’s not going to have a peaceful sleep. But, now, he’d rather like to see if he can finally catch up to Ryuga, maybe tell him that he _does_ dare to find him, and that he’d better be ready for it.)

Kyoya closes his eyes.  
___

(Kyoya wakes.

Per usual he’s back in the Dark Nebula base, but this time it’s different.

He’s in his more recent attire: green crop top, black sleeveless jacket, low-riding pants, brown boots. His fist curls around the comforting weight of Fang Leone, heavy and warm in his hand.

Yeah, pretty different.

It’s especially different, though, because this time, Ryuga’s standing beside him.

He looks different too. His fluttering white jacket is gone, and his black bodysuit is torn and ripped. His hair is sootstained and in disarray, golden circlet broken. He’s bruised, battered, a mess.

Yet, his eyes blaze ever brighter. He grins, all sharp, white teeth.

“Finally grew a pair, huh, Tategami?”, he rasps, voice rattling out of him. “Kept me waiting, you did.”

Kyoya stares at Ryuga like an idiot for a bit before his brain finally catches up to him and he’s flooded with a million questions. What’s going on, what happened to you, why did these dreams come to _me_ , why aren’t you _dead_ -

All that comes out of his mouth is:

“Why?”

Kyoya hates how small his voice sounds. He hates how Ryuga’s eyes go dark, how the usually condescending smile goes from his face. For a few seconds there’s a horrible silence. Then Ryuga just grunts and tosses his head.

“What am I, a fucking shrink?”, the other boy spits, then goes quiet, eyes cast off to the side.

Kyoya gets that it’s code for: I don’t know, dumbass. 

And then, Kyoya knows that he doesn’t like that answer. He really doesn’t like that answer, how flippant it is. How sharply nonchalant. It’s viciously detached, and it fits Ryuga to a tee.

Then, he gets very, very angry. His vision seems to blur, seems to tint dark around the edges. He’s breathing very hard, and Ryuga is still just _looking_ at him, arms crossed, like he’s on a pedestal and Kyoya’s planted on the ground far below, insignificant, a bug.

He wants to tackle him, knock him off his high horse, crush him into the dirt for what he’s put the others through. It occurs to Kyoya that everything might’ve been resolved a lot quicker, might have hurt a lot less if Ryuga had just sucked his god damn pride up and completed Zeus’s barrier instead of fucking off and getting himself killed. And Kenta-

Oh, jesus, _Kenta_. Kyoya likes to think that he gives zero shits about anyone including the kid, but, god, the look on his face when he saw Ryuga crumpled, unresponsive. The way something in his eyes just _broke_ -

Across him, Ryuga raises an eyebrow, and Kyoya registers that he’s still breathing heavy, trembling with anger, feet planted wide, fists clenched. The other boy stares at him blankly. Kyoya wants to punch the look off his face.

_His reflection in the dark of Ryuga’s pupils is not him. It’s red-eyed and snarling. It’s shaped like a lion, forged in anger, made of hate._

“What’s got _your_ panties in a twist?”, Ryuga growls, low in his throat, snapping Kyoya out of his reverie.

...This fucker.

“What’s got my panties in a twist?”, Kyoya hisses. “Maybe the fact that you’re not dead. Maybe the fact that you didn’t even fucking think to contact us. Maybe because, even after fucking _dying_ , your still such a condescending, goddamn bastard, even when I’m trying to _find_ your sorry ass, even when it’s obvious you don’t give a fuck about anyone or anything.”

Ryuga straightens up, arms uncrossed, teeth bared. His eyebrows pinch together, and his fists clench.

“Don’t act like you’re such a fucking saint, Tategami.”, he says, almost factually, voice made of steel “Besides, I don’t owe anyone anything. Not to mention how that’s pretty rich coming from you, considering all the times you’ve ran away. I know you still treat all your so-called friends like shit.”

Kyoya smiles, canines gleaming.

“Treat my friends like shit, huh?”, he says. Kyoya almost doesn’t recognize his own voice, cold as steel and cruel. “Almost reminds me of you and Kenta, or you and _everyone_ for that matter. Pathetic of you, really. Couldn’t even swallow your fat ego, not even to tell him you actually gave a fuck about him, not even to tell _us_ , not until you fucking bit it-”

Kyoya almost doesn’t have time to comprehend the dangerous flash in Ryuga’s eyes, but the fist flying at him is warning enough. He manages to dodge it, but Ryuga swivels, swings out his elbow, there’s a crunch, a shout, and-)  
___

Kyoya gasps, his eyes fly open, and he rockets up, nearly falling into the aisle, with his surroundings whirling around him. He dimly realizes that he’s still on the bus, and the 11-a.m. sun’s white-gold light cascades through the dirt-layered windows, painting the dusty, torn seats, in a warm glow.

He also realizes that something’s leaking from his nose, into his mouth. It’s warm. He swipes it with his tongue and it tastes ironlike, metallic.

He touches the wet-warm-iron. 

His fingers come away red.  
___

It’s only a few minutes until the bus stops for him. He’s the last passenger on, and he nods at the driver in acknowledgement and a rudimentary goodbye as he exits the bus. Then, as it trundles away down the road, Kyoya takes a deep breath of air.

There’s a slight undertone of salt in the fresh cleanness of it and that’s how he knows he’s getting close. The Dark Nebula base _was_ located on the seacoast, and Kyoya still remembers foregoing his meager break time to climb to the building’s top and do nothing but look out over the great blue expanse. Sometimes the waves would crash against the cliffside, throwing seafoam and salt upon him, and he’d close his eyes and just soak in the feeling.

That time in the Dark Nebula, that time would always be the dark part of his life.

But some things, like watching the sunlight glitter over the waves, that was rather nice.

Kyoya turns, hoists his backpack up, wipes his nose free of blood, and surveys his surroundings. He’s in a mostly rural area now, and if he squints a bit he can see the outline of a couple farms in the distance. Green grass stretches for miles upon miles, and standing where he is, looking upon the wild, great fields, the robin’s-egg blue sky seems endless.

Kyoya takes a step. Than another.

As he walks down the dirt path, the sky goes _on and on_.  
___

Kyoya’s not sure how long he’s been walking, but it’s certainly been long enough to reflect on the ridiculousness of his impromptu mission. 

Like, seriously. He’s dragging himself all the way to the abandoned Dark Nebula base on nothing to go off of but a fucking _dream_. And a bit of spite too, because while it is technically a rescue mission, it’s kind of also a challenge.

Kyoya’s never one to back down from challenges, he always faces everything head on.

Lately though, his father’s been pestering him to ‘be more responsible’. Trying to spend some time with him (usually at his company’s buildings), showing him around, and Kyoya knows that his father’s trying to get him to take it over.

Kyoya doesn’t know if he’ll ever be ready for an office, paperwork, and most of all, giving up beyblade. Giving up beyblade was basically the equivalent of cutting off his limbs. It’s a part of him, his identity.

Kyoya’s faced down Wolf Canyon, the gates of hell, even a god of fucking destruction.

But four walls, nothing between them but a desk and confinement?

It’s almost enough to make Kyoya sick.

To think this began with Beyblade. His own desire for strength made waste of matter and his mind. His life was spent waging a war.

It’s hard to believe that it all ends with wrist cramps, suits, and swivel chairs.  
___

The landscape’s changing now, into familiar rocky terrain. The smell of the sea has gotten stronger. Kyoya knows he’s getting close.

He’s also just noticed that he’s very, very hungry, starving almost, and his stomach feels achingly hollow. He’s so used to ignoring his hunger and fatigue that it’s almost second nature now.

Kyoya doesn’t know if that’s something to be proud of or worried about.

Nonetheless, he makes his way over to a fairly large shallow pool rather close by, shucks off his shoes, and dips his feet into the cool water. Pulling a sandwich out of his bag, he bites at the chicken and bread, grimacing a bit at the dryness. At least it tastes okay.

He leans back, swallowing, and takes another bite, closing his eyes. Kyoya chews, and listens to the sound of the wind over the water. The breeze rustles through the few trees nestled among the rocks, and the sound of an eagle’s cry echoes among the stone spires.

 _Nature’s playlist, huh?_ , Kyoya thinks, and his mouth curls into the smallest of grins.

(He’s going to miss this.)

Kyoya doesn’t know how much time passes, with him listening to the wind, water, and stone. He’s near-meditating now, on nothing particularly, just regulating his breathing, but the sound of footsteps jolts his consciousness. His hand flies for his launcher, and he slams Fang Leone into it as he whirls around and aims at-

Oh. Oh, fucking god, the _eagle_ he’d heard earlier. _Jesus_.

The silver-haired boy across from him smirks, hand on his hip.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he says, mouth quirked. “Kyoya Tategami.” His eagle alights on his shoulder and it’s eyes gleam beadily. Kyoya glares at it, then up at the other boy, who strokes over the bird’s silky feathers.

“Tsubasa Otori. What the fuck do you want.”

Tsubasa raises an eyebrow, and his smirk only grows. His eagle tosses it’s head.

“Eloquent as ever.”, he chuckles.

Kyoya tucks away his launcher, and flips him off.  
___

“So”, Tsubasa starts, from his position beside Kyoya. He’s stretched out on the wind-weathered ground, gaze upward, arms tucked behind his head. “Why’re you out here, of all places?” Tsubasa rolls his eyes. “Wait, no, let me guess. It’s some other crazy training you’ve got in mind, right?”

“I’ll tear you apart.”, Kyoya snaps.

“Right.” Tsubasa yawns. “So, are you going to tell me or not, because I’ve better things to do than watch you brood.”

“Like what? Hang out with your little birdy or that nuisance Yu? You’re pathetic.”

“My “little birdy” is not above shitting on your inflated head, Tategami. Watch it.”

Kyoya knows he’s lost this round. There’s a hesitant silence, and then, he sighs.

“Finally cracked you, hm?”, Tsubasa says, a touch smug.

“Shut up.”

“...”

“...”

“I’m waiting.”

Kyoya grumbles, but relents.

“That thing that used to be inside you...you know....around the World Championships.” Kyoya rests his cheek on his hand, and meets Tsubasa’s eyes. “How did you get rid of it?”

Kyoya can almost feel the atmosphere sort of _drop_ , like a stone heavy in your hand, weighted. It’s unnervingly quiet, and Kyoya comes very close to regretting what he said.

“You can’t get rid of it.”, Tsubasa says eventually. “There’s no fixing it. You just have to accept it.”

“ _Accept it_?!”, Kyoya exclaims, balking. “Not a chance in hell! You-”

“You’re not listening”, Tsubasa says, pinching the bridge of his nose exasperatedly. “You need to make it yours. You accept your weakness, turn it into your strength. That’s how you become stronger, you hurt, you fall, but you learn, and grow from it.”

“I am not weak.”, Kyoya protests.

“You’re still not listening. There’s a difference between being weak and having a weakness.”, Tsubasa says, scratching his eagle under the beak idly. He looks over at Kyoya, gaze piercing. “Why do you even want to know this anyway?”

Kyoya narrows his eyes. He’s suddenly very sweaty. 

“You and Hikaru weren’t the only two who Ryuga stole from.”, he says, and leaves it at that. 

Tsubasa frowns, understanding, but not yet satisfied.“You’re not telling me everything.”

“I’m telling you enough.”

At that, Tsubasa huffs.

“You’re so standoffish. Why do you push people away?”

“People are fucking stupid. I’m better on my own.”

“Just tell me what’s going on!”

“I don’t _know_ what’s going on, alright!”

Kyoya’s on his feet, turned to Tsubasa. He’s breathing heavy and hard even though he can’t really _breathe_ , which is inconvenient, because he’s trying to yell.

“Do you ever think, at all, that this is fucking bullshit?”, he yells. Tsubasa doesn’t look very surprised, maybe mildly interested, and that only pisses Kyoya off more.

“I’m fucking _fourteen_ , damnit!”, he bellows. “I’m not even out of high school yet, none of us are- for God’s sake, Yu and Kenta are mother fucking _children_ \- and we’ve spent our years fighting a god damn _war_!”

Kyoya dimly registers that his vision is getting worryingly blurry, which means he’s going to cry, which means he’s about to do that thing where he’s trying to scream but also gasp like a walrus giving birth. He blinks rapidly and turns from Tsubasa, breathes in and out, counts to ten.

“I’m done.”, he growls. “I want this bullshit over. I want to live without some problem or prophecy dictating what’s going to happen to me. My dad’s already pushing for me to inherit the company, so in a few years, I’m going to be stuck in a stupid office. Before that happens, I just-”

Something comes over him, and suddenly, he’s so tired. His whole body seems to be made of lead, and Kyoya crumples to the ground, head thunking on the dirt, arms and legs spread out. 

Everything is very quiet, and Tsubasa’s eagle alights gracefully beside him, and absently starts picking at his hair. Kyoya doesn’t have the energy to shoo it away, and just lets it be.

Tsubasa, finally, chuckles lowly and smiles. “Wore yourself out, huh?”

Kyoya thinks that he might’ve worn himself out a long time ago. He nods.

“Felt good letting that out?”

Kyoya hums at that, and lets his eyes fall shut. Tsubasa keeps talking, smile falling.

“I have trouble too, you know. Sometimes I can’t even breathe, sometimes I’m shaking so hard, something in my ribs hurts so much, and all I can do is remember when all I want to do is forget. Sometimes, Yu cries and trembles in his sleep, makes me hug him to calm down. But, we are not weak, because we never let that stop us, not for long. We live on.”

Kyoya opens his eyes at that, sits up, and meets Tsubasa’s sharp gaze.

“I’ve always thought you strong, we all have Kyoya Tategami.” he says, gold eyes piercing.

“I’ll expect you to live up to that.”  
___

Kyoya’s treks onward, journey resumed, after parting ways with Tsubasa. Sleep weighs dangerously heavy on his eyelids, but he can’t stop now. He so close, he can hear the crash of waves on the cliffside, can almost see the dark outline of the base against the white of the 8 p.m. moon.

He stumbles forward as his eyes flutter shut for a moment and slips just a little into sleep. A past dream flashes through his mind.

_Treat my friends like shit, huh? Almost reminds me of you and Kenta, or you and everyone for that matter_ -

Kyoya jolts awake again with a shout, and crashes to the ground, but doesn’t move to get up. His bones seem heavier than cement, his bag weighs heavy on his back, and he opts to keep his cheek pressed to the cool earth, listening to the sound of crickets, watching fireflies dance between blades of grass.

 _I’m a hypocrite_ , he thinks.

_I talk big to Ryuga about treating people like shit, when all I’ve ever done is push others away. I talk to him about Kenta, when I’ve stomped on Benkei’s arm._

And that’s what gets him going. 

Kyoya forces himself up, grinds his cement bones into working, and grits his teeth. He sways but rights himself, tugs his own body on. His bag slips off his shoulders, but he doesn’t notice. He’s thinking of Wolf Canyon, with weights pulling him to the deep, thinking of the wolves’ gleaming eyes.

He looks forward, and a beast grins back. 

_Coward_ , it rasps, low in it’s throat. It eyes are red (sky blue, arctic-blue). _You run from your friends, you run from your country, you’re running from your birthright. Fool, you’re only running from yourself._

It grins with startlingly human teeth.

Except for the canines. They gleam like daggers in it’s leering mouth.

___

Kyoya trudges into the Dark Nebula base, and after a moment, realizes that the lights are on, which is rather surprising considering how long the base should have remained defunct. 

Logically, that means someone else is already here.

 _Ryuga_.

Maybe it’s the sudden onset of relief, and the realization that _this is it_ , these are the corridors he’s ran for nights chasing a dead man walking, but Kyoya crumples to the floor and closes his eyes. Offhandedly, he recognizes the sound of muted footsteps coming closer.

He doesn’t quite fall asleep, he’s there, halfway. He perceives a shock of white hair, tanned skin.

The boy standing above him could be a younger version of Ryuga. His eyes are gentler, though. They don’t glint with a mad fire.

Rather unsteadily, Ryuto Kishatu pulls Kyoya Tategami to his feet and leads him, stumbling, down the corridor.  
___

“He’s been like this for some time now.”, Ryuto says. He watches Ryuga tiredly. Bags hang dark under his eyes. Kyoya’s sitting beside him, staring at the pod which holds Ryuga, clutching Leone in a death-grip. The bey pulses and purrs, a lioness comforting her cub.

They are in the room where it all started. The room where Ryuga woke up for the first time, a world-beater. 

Now, the circle is complete, and Ryuga’s right back in the silver pod, hooked up to tubes and wires that monitor his vital signs and run scans of his brain activity. Kyoya thinks that it’s kind of incredible that Ryuto managed to get it all working again. As always, desperate times call for desperate measures.

Kyoya also thinks that he should be angry. He came all this way for Ryuga, and here Ryuga is!

Except he’s in a coma.

Kyoya just feels numb. He’s just so damn tired. Offhandedly he realizes Ryuto’s nudging him, and he turns to see something resting in the palm of the other boy’s hand. Something shining and metallic. Leone radiates, seams to sear the skin of his hand so that Kyoya tucks his bey away.

He blinks.

It’s L-Drago. Broken, in pieces. Ryuto’s hand shakes. 

“I found it”, Ryuto says hoarsely. “Under all the rocks and everything, with him. It was crushed, I can’t fix it.” He takes a shuddering breath. “I can’t fix anything. God, he’s the only family I’ve got left, I-”, Ryuto’s voice cracks.

Kyoya can’t do anything but watch the younger boy grit his teeth and blink furiously. After a few long moments, he manages to get himself together, and looks sharply at him.

“Why did you come here?”, he asks. “Did you know about this, about Ryuga?”

Kyoya feels a smile crack across his face. He laughs hollowly. “You’ll think I’m insane.”

“I already think you’re insane.”,

“Touche”, Kyoya relents. “I kept having these dreams where he’d be here. I wasn’t getting much rest, thanks to him, so I thought I’d pop over for a bit and beat him up for ruining my nap time.”

“ _Dreams_ ”, Ryuto says incredulously. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a tumor.”

“Fucking hell.” Ryuto rests his chin on his knee, and shakes his head. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“I don’t even know what I was expecting, coming here.”, Kyoya chuckles, wildly. “Closure? Some answers? I’m such a goddamn idiot-”

“Shut up.”

At that, Kyoya balks. 

“Hey, you little brat-”

“Shut up! I’m thinking!”

Kyoya starts to lay into the little bastard, but when he looks over, Ryuto’s gears are obviously turning. A small smile plays at the edge of his mouth, and when he turns to look at Kyoya it widens into a grin.

“You’ve got to fall asleep again.” Ryuto says, excitedly.

Kyoya raises an eyebrow. Ryuto’s almost vibrating with excitement.

“That’s how you communicated with him before, right? Through dreams! There’s obviously still a connection between the two of you, and you can still access that. You could wake him!” Ryuto takes Kyoya’s hand, presses L-Drago into his palm, and he can feel it almost pulse, warm like the beating of a heart. Clasping the bey, Kyoya looks back up at Ryuto and smirks.

“Sleep?” At the very mention of the word Kyoya’s eyelids seem to fail him.

“No problem.”  
___

Kyoya wakes up standing.

Blinking a little blearily, he registers that he’s back in the corridors, where his dreams would always start, which means Ryuto’s idea worked. His heart leaps in triumph.

Then he hears a dark, raspy chuckle behind him and he jumps, and whirls around to see-

Himself?

The sheer shock of seeing his own face overcomes Kyoya with nausea, sending his stomach swimming. He backs away, dry retching. His other self stares at him, with a horrid, too-wide smile. He’s a carbon copy, right down to his scars. 

Except for his eyes. 

They are red. 

(Sky-blue, arctic-blue)

Kyoya wants to throw up, the dysphoria sending him reeling. His skin feels clammy and his stomach swims. God, what’s _happening_ to him?

Kyoya realizes he’s scared.

Lord, is he scared. Pants-wettingly scared. Trousers-soiling scared. It’s so unnatural a feeling, it makes Kyoya want to vomit all over again, makes his legs wobble like toddler. His doppelganger grins at him with all it’s wolf-sharp teeth.

“What are you so afraid of?”, it rasps. 

Kyoya’s heart stops in his chest.

So, against all his morals, all his principles, he turns tail and runs like hell down the corridors.

He doesn’t even know where he’s going when he takes off. All he knows is that he has got to escape that _thing_ back there. Kyoya hears it’s footsteps trailing behind him and stumbles from an onslaught of dizziness. He shakes his head clear, and keeps running.

 _What are you so afraid of?_. A dark voice echoes down the halls.

Kyoya yells from exertion, and strains to move even faster. His vision is swimming, he can’t fucking breathe-

And he trips and tumbles right into the room containing Ryuga’s pod.

He sees his sleeping body (which triggers _another_ goddamn wave of nausea), and Ryuto sitting by him, eyebrows scrunched in worry. He’s threaded his fingers together, like someone praying. 

Kyoya limps past his hunched form and crashes right onto the surface of Ryuga’s pod, staring at the sleeping face beneath him. Two breaths steam on opposite sides of glass.

“Wake up.”, Kyoya croaks. “Ryuga, wake up. Your little brother’s waiting for you, wake up. Kenta thinks you’re dead, _wake up_.”

Kyoya scrambles for L-Drago in the folds of his jacket, clutches the cracked fragments and presses it against the pod.

“Come back, come back, _wake up_.”, he says, near-pleading, not hearing the slow footfalls approaching. 

“God, you’re pathetic”, a voice sounds behind him. Kyoya’s blood runs cold, his sight blurs. He turns slowly, hating how he shakes, and stares his doppelganger in it’s eyes. He wills himself to stand up, thinks of Ryuto, with his hands clasped, Ryuga, unconscious. He chokes down his fear and rises to his feet.

“I’m not afraid of you.”, Kyoya spits, hand flying to Leone in his pocket. His bey pulses, muted, but a comfort nonetheless, and a small vein of warmth runs from his hand to his chest. Kyoya holds onto it with a vengeance.

“I’m not afraid of you.”, he repeats. His clone chuckles.

“Liar.”, it hisses. Kyoya physically fights back his flinch. “Don’t you get it, Tategami? You know who I am.” It steps toward him, purposefully slow. “And I know for a fact that I scare you very much.”

Kyoya does know, and the thought makes him want to start running again. He knows it like the back of his hand, the nights spent in the Dark Nebula, told every day he’d never be anything without them. The scars on his hands from scaling Wolf Canyon, beasts on his heels. The terrible churning jealousy whenever he looks at Gingka, and the fear that he could never live up to him. The fact that it’s finished with claustrophobia, stuck in a world folded out of paperwork, with nothing to his name that he has earned himself.

Kyoya Tategami stands, shaking, before the very personification of his fears. His failures.

His _weakness _.__

__As if on cue, his clone surges forward, and Kyoya couldn’t dodge even if he’d wanted to. He’s tackled back, head banging against Ryuga’s pod, wrestled to the floor. L-Drago flies out of his hands._ _

__“No!”, Kyoya shouts, leaping for the bey, but he’s pulled back, pressed to the ground, his own maniacal face laughing down at him._ _

__“Coward!”, it bellows in his face. “Spineless, weakling, _coward!_ ” It’s ice-cold hands curl tight around his wrists, and Kyoya struggles fruitlessly. He’s trying to think, trying to protest, but it’s voice seems to stab through his bones, turning marrow into ice, muddling his thoughts._ _

__“Stop it!”, he yells, trying to shout above the cacophony. “I’m not a coward, I’m not spineless! My name is Kyoya Tategami and I am not _weak_!”_ _

__It only roars louder. Kyoya’s ears ring and his eyes water. It’s hard to breathe, his whole body aches, his head’s going to pieces-_ _

__But, there’s a voice._ _

__Everything else seems to fade into the background, quieting. His ears tune to the sound._ _

__He hears Ryuto._ _

__Everything almost seems in slow-motion as Kyoya turns his head to the side. He sees his body, tossing and turning. He sees Ryuto, kneeling over him, desperately yelling for him to fight, telling him to not give up._ _

__Kyoya listens. Kyoya breathes. He feels the anger and resentment radiating off of his clone, but there’s a warmth in his pocket, growling, protective. Leone threads through his soul, pulls a memory to the surface._ _

_You accept your weakness, turn it into your strength._

__All at once, Kyoya understands._ _

__He turns his head, facing the clone and stops struggling. Focuses on the breath rushing in and out of his lungs. Stares it right in it’s bloodred eyes. He grips its hands in his, and presses his forehead against the other’s. He knows what he has to do._ _

__Kyoya's blood pounds in his ears, like the sea against a trembling dam._ _

__On a breath, he lets the flood loose._ _

__“You are my weakness.”, he whispers, like a wound torn open, a bullet through the skull. The words shake in his throat._ _

__The thrashing stops immediately. Red eyes widen, the palms pressed against his own shake. Kyoya stares at himself with tired eyes and open arms._ _

__“I’m scared of you, you know.”, he continues, letting his voice waver. “I’m scared of not being good enough. I’m scared of ending everything I’ve worked for with nothing to my name and no legacy. I’m scared of being trapped and wasting the rest of my life on something other than the one thing I love. I’m scared of losing the people I care about because I was too damn stupid to tell them so.”_ _

__Kyoya pushes himself up slowly, and the clone rises with him. Their fingers entwine._ _

__“I’m not saying it’s okay, all these faults.”, Kyoya continues. “I’m saying that I will fight every day to overcome them. I will learn and grow.”_ _

__“You may be my weakness.”, Kyoya says, full of warmth. He smiles, gentle. “But I will make you my strength.”_ _

__With that, the dark crumples into him, and the light left behind turns his vision to white.  
____ _

__Kyoya wakes with a gasp, to see Ryuto’s face above him, tears streaming, hands clutching his jacket. At the sight of his open eyes, the younger boy tries to stifle the sobs but only cries harder._ _

__“I thought- Kyoya you-”, he gasps. Kyoya grasps his shoulder, steadying, when they both hear a _thunk_ coming from the pod. They whip around._ _

__And Ryuga stands there, in all his pissed-off glory. He’s rubbing his head from apparently having hit his head on the pods receding glass surface, with a disgruntled expression on his face. “What the hell…”, he grumbles. Kyoya belatedly realizes that his circlet is on rather askew._ _

__As for Ryuto, well, he _loses_ it._ _

__He lunges for his brother, wailing, arms outstretched, knocking Ryuga back into the pod with a shout of surprise from the older boy. Kyoya doesn’t move, just watches, silent._ _

__He’s never felt so _quiet_ before. He’d thought it would be more like an explosion, seeing Ryuga again, but it was more like watching the sunrise, seeing the light come home to you._ _

__Ryuga finally manages to peel his brother off of him (after begrudgingly giving him a hug), then looks up and catches sight of Kyoya. Without breaking his gaze, he speaks to Ryuto._ _

__“Hey pipsqueak.”, he says. “Mind doing me a favor and getting me some food. I’m fucking starving.”_ _

__Ryuto nods, still sniffling, and dashes out of the room, leaving the two other boys alone, staring at each other._ _

__Ryuga doesn’t look away until he’s seated beside Kyoya. He just stares in front of him, unblinking. Kyoya follows his gaze and sees that he’s staring at the broken form of L-Drago upon the floor, a distance away, right at the spot where it landed when the clone knocked it out of Kyoya’s hands. Ryuga doesn’t move to get it, just _looks_ at it._ _

__“Well.”, Kyoya says. “You gonna get it, or am going to have to get it for you?”_ _

__“Shut up.”, Ryuga says, not missing a beat. He walks over, near-cautious, and picks the shards up, rather delicately. Immediately, the metal emits a purple glow and Ryuga’s eyes widen._ _

__“It’s gone. All over again.”, Ryuga says, hoarsely. His eyes gleam with a harsh light and Kyoya walks over and turns to face him.”_ _

__“You lost everything, I know.”, Kyoya says. “I can’t imagine it.”_ _

__“Yeah.”, Ryuga whispers. “You can’t.”_ _

__Silence, then Kyoya speaks._ _

__“You’re weak all over again, huh?” he says. Ryuga’s eyes flick up, blazing, and Kyoya meets his gaze. “You know what that means?”_ _

__Ryuga stares down at L-Drago and after a couple moments, he looks back up, smirking, wryly._ _

__“I fight, even harder than last time.”, Ryuga says, cheshire-grin curling. He grips L-Drago, determined. “I’ll come back, and I’ll be twice as strong.”_ _

__Kyoya bares his teeth, hardly passing for a smile._ _

__“I’ll be counting on it.”  
____ _

__In the beginning of the journey Kyoya Tategami was trying to bring Ryuga back._ _

__Now, it’s over and he can’t even really say he succeeded in all interpretations of his quest._ _

__Ryuga had left immediately, Ryuto in tow, to no doubt train like a madman and probably almost die a couple times. It happened so quickly that it almost made Kyoya wonder if he was even there at all._ _

__Kyoya thinks he understands, though, the sudden departure. Ryuga doesn’t want to be seen in his weakness at all, doesn’t want pity or sympathy. Despite everything, Kyoya never pitied him once. Ryuga was far above pity. Pitying someone like Ryuga was like feeling sorry for the Sun for having to shine all the time._ _

__

__As the bus trundles along, time seems reversed, to the start of Kyoya’s quest, with buttery-soft light painting his vision gold. He leans back, strangely at peace, and cradles Leone in his hand, watching emerald colors glint._ _

__“I found Ryuga.” Kyoya says, thumbing over his face bolt. “But, me as well, huh, Leone?”_ _

__His bey pulses, sending tendrils of warmth racing through his body, and the weight of his ordeals crashes down on him. Kyoya’s vision blurs, eyes sliding shut, as he falls quietly, blessedly, asleep._ _


End file.
